


Lunch Date

by starwarned



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Fluffy Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Genderswap, Post-Watford (Simon Snow), Simon Snow Loves Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, baz has really long and really pretty hair, my gals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25161697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwarned/pseuds/starwarned
Summary: Genderswapped SnowBaz. Angst and fluff ensue.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 3
Kudos: 67





	Lunch Date

**Author's Note:**

> Because it’s already a lot with fem!snowbaz, I wanted to make this really simple and not too deep, but uh, it started getting a little angsty. Whoops! 
> 
> Also, fun fact: I am a gay woman and I am intensely more comfortable writing boy/boy intimacy than I am girl/girl intimacy. Why? It’s called trauma.

  
  
  


Baz spends forty-five minutes doing her hair every single morning. Not that Simon thinks it’s a bother at all (she gets to sleep in for that extra time), but she’s used to getting up, running a hand through her short curls, and being ready for the day. So the difference in their times makes Simon a little bit antsy. 

Baz and Simon were (and are) planning to be roommates at Uni this fall, but their dorms weren’t finished being built before classes started so the school paid for them to stay in a hotel for a week or so. They’d been put in rooms with a connecting door between them, but they inevitably stay in Baz’s bed every night, completely disregarding Simon’s hotel room between the hours of 11:00 PM and 8:00 AM. 

As Simon wakes up in her own hotel room, she knows something is wrong, but she’s so groggy that she can’t remember immediately. She sits up and rubs her hands over her eyes, trying to make sense of her surroundings. 

She remembers. Her and Baz had gotten in a fight the night before (over something very stupid - whether or not they should get lunch between classes the next day) and they had both said unreasonable things. She remembers Baz asking her nicely (as nicely Baz can ask for things) to stay in her own hotel bed for the night. 

_ “I have class at noon, darling, I can’t afford to be late,” Baz had said when Simon brought it up. _

_ “So do I,” Simon insisted, reaching out and tugging on Baz’s sleeve.  _

_ Baz had been pacing around the room, flashcards being shuffled in her hands as she restarts going over terms for her vocab quiz the next morning.  _

_ “We won’t be late.” Simon tried again, pulling a little bit harder on Baz’s sleeve, forcing her to sit down on the edge of the bed.  _

_ “I don’t trust your concept of time, Snow,” Baz retorted, lying back onto the pillows and setting her flashcards down.  _

_ Simon sighed. “You don’t have to trust my concept of time. There are multiple clocks attached to your person that you could use.”  _

_ Baz is one of the only people Simon knows her age who wears a watch every single day. And she has a miniature computer in her back pocket at all times.  _

_ Baz turned onto her side to face Simon. “We only have an hour, Snow. I can’t afford to go off campus to get food with you.”  _

_ Simon pouted and tucked her knees up towards her chest. “You having a stick up your arse about never being late to class certainly isn’t my fault and I shouldn’t be punished for it.”  _

_ “I’m not punishing you for it. And don’t talk about my arse.”  _

_ “I’ll talk about your arse all I want, Baz.” Simon looked at her and frowned. “Why won’t you do this one thing for me?”  _

_ “Why is it so important?” Baz asked, flippant as she twisted onto her back again.  _

_ “It just is.”  _

_ “I don’t want to get lunch with you, Simon.”  _

_ “Why? You have another hot date planned after class?”  _

_ “No.”  _

_ Simon was clearly upset that Baz wouldn’t return her banter.  _

_ “You’re so fucking uptight,” she said, getting up off the bed and going to grab her phone from the desk across the room.  _

_ “I am not,” Baz insisted, but she still wasn’t very invested in the conversation.  _

_ Simon shoved her phone in her back pocket, unable to focus on anything other than how upset she was at Baz. “Yes, you are, you prick.”  _

_ “Are you daft? I just would rather not be late to class.” Baz started to get a little bit more upset.  _

_ “Not even to spend time with me?”  _

_ “You’re not as important as you think you are, Simon.”  _

_ Simon had paused, then.  _

_ “Fuck you, Baz. Eat someone’s arse for lunch for all I care,” she snapped.  _

_ Baz only then realized the intensity of the conversation and the weight of what she had just said to her girlfriend. She stood up carefully and tucked her hands into her pockets. “Sleep in your own room tonight.” She was barely holding onto her contempt (at herself mostly, but a little bit at Simon).  _

_ “But-”  _

_ “Get out, Simon. Please.”  _

_ “Fine.” Simon was just as cold as Baz was.  _

_ She grabbed her pullover from the edge of Baz’s bed and marched into her hotel room, shutting the door behind her.  _

Simon groans and runs a hand over her face. They’ve been in arguments this bad before but Simon’s not good at apologizing and neither is Baz. She stands up and checks her phone, seeing a text from Baz. 

_ 7:02 - Be ready to leave in 45 minutes.  _

Simon hates how formal the text is, but it’s certainly Baz’s style when she’s upset. She checks the time.  _ 7:19.  _ She’s going to have to fuck around and wait for Baz to be ready for nearly half an hour. She goes to wash her face, fix her hair, and take a leak.  _ 7:23 _ . She’s never going to last until Baz is ready to go. She changes out of her pajamas and into jeans and an athletic tank top so she can show off her arms. Maybe Baz will forgive her if she does. 

Simon decides to bite the bullet and knocks on the door separating their rooms. Baz doesn’t open the door and doesn’t say anything. Simon is sure her knock was loud enough. She tries the door and finds it isn’t locked so she takes a deep breath and walks in. 

“Baz?” she calls softly. 

Baz steps out of the bathroom, toothbrush in her mouth and hair wrapped up in a towel. She is just in her bra and her typical pair of silk pajama shorts. 

Simon wants to tackle her to the floor and snog her to death. 

“You still have-” Baz checks her watch. “-twenty-two minutes.” She is infuriatingly cool. 

Simon sighs. “Sorry. I’m just ready whenever you are.” She can’t stop staring at Baz’s exposed skin. She wants to kiss all of it, and normally, she just would, but Baz still seems pretty upset. 

“Okay. Sit down and wait.” 

Simon nods and does as she’s told, plopping herself on the end of the bed, watching Baz’s arse as she walks back into the bathroom. She hears the hairdryer start up. 

“Hey, Baz?” Simon calls out, immediately feeling like an idiot because Baz has to turn off the hairdryer in order to hear her. 

“What did you say?” 

“Shit,” Simon mutters under her breath. She stands up and walks to stand in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning against the frame and crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry about last night.” 

Baz runs her fingers through her hair before deliberately turning the hairdryer back on so she doesn’t have to respond. 

Simon watches as Baz dries her hair. It takes a couple of minutes, but Simon refuses to leave until she’s done so Baz doesn’t get out of talking about it that easily. 

Baz finally stops drying her hair and starts to comb through it carefully. “I’m sorry about last night, too,” she practically whispers, still not looking at Simon. 

Simon lets out a breath of relief. “It’s not a big deal that you go to lunch with me, Baz. I just wanted you to  _ care _ about spending time with me.” 

“I should be the one apologizing, Simon.” Baz puts the comb down and turns to her. “I said something I didn’t mean.”

Simon flinches a little bit at the memory of Baz saying  _ You’re not as important as you think you are, Simon.  _

Baz continues. “You’re very important to me. You’re probably the most important person to me in the world.” She steps a little bit forward. “I didn’t know we were in an argument until you were already upset with me and I was mad that you were mad.” 

“That’s not a great reason, Basil.” 

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Baz reaches out to gently grab onto Simon’s hand. “I didn’t mean it. I’d skip a thousand classes to be with you.” 

“And I didn’t mean it either,” Simon promises. “I really don’t want you to eat anybody’s arse for lunch.” 

“Not even yours?” Baz teases, still a little hesitant about joking, but once she sees Simon’s a little more comfortable with it, she lets herself smile. 

“God, no,” Simon laughs. “Especially not mine.” 

Baz leans forward to kiss Simon’s forehead. “Sorry again.” 

“I’ll get over it.” 

“I’d much rather you get over me.” Baz lifts an eyebrow and runs one of her nails down Simon’s palm, forcing her to gasp in response. 

“That can, uh,” Simon starts, her eyes wide. “That can be arranged.” 

Baz kisses Simon gently, not wanting to push her too much after they just fought. “Later,” she promises. 

Baz pulls away, picking up her comb to finish running through her hair. Simon watches for a while, but then asks, “Can I?” 

Baz looks at her with an eyebrow raised. “You want to comb my hair?” 

Simon nods. “A little bit, yeah.” 

“Do you have jam or something on your hands that’s gonna make my hair all sticky?” 

“ _ No _ ,” Simon insists. “I’m not always covered in food.” 

“Could have fooled me.” Baz gives in, though, handing Simon her comb and stepping closer to the counter so Simon can slip in behind her and start combing through her hair at the back of her head. 

“You’ve got really pretty hair,” Simon says, softly running her fingers through it. She knows Baz is intensely protective over her hair, so she feels the need to be extra reverent. She doesn’t want the privilege to be taken away.

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

Once Simon is done and Baz has checked her work for quality and thoroughness, Baz starts to reach up and braid parts of her hair in order to hold the front pieces back. Simon slides her hands around Baz’s waist and rubs her fingers against Baz’s bare skin, pressing her nose into her girlfriend’s back. 

Baz presses back against her, just enough to let Simon know she appreciates her being there. 

Simon grins a little bit and slips her fingers into the waistband of Baz’s shorts, teasing the sensitive skin below her hips, causing Baz to slow her motions of putting her hair up and push into her touch. 

Simon knows they don’t have a lot of time until Baz will want to leave so she swings around to the front of Baz, kisses her softly, and kneels down to press kisses across Baz’s stomach and hips. 

Baz whines, “Snow, come on,” but Simon can’t tell if that means to stop or to keep going. She keeps going. 

Simon slips Baz’s shorts carefully down her hips, just enough so she can run her tongue across her hip bones. Simon looks up at Baz, whose hands have completely stilled in her hair, and Simon smirks. 

Baz’s eyes flash, determined to not let this get to her. She continues to do her hair, staring straight into the mirror so she doesn’t have to look at Simon and lose her resolve. 

Simon runs one hand up the inside of Baz’s thigh as she sucks a mark into her hip, forcing Baz to breathe out a shaky sigh. Simon ghosts her hand carefully between Baz’s legs, pressing her fingers lightly against her. Baz whimpers and bucks her hips forward. 

“Snow, I have to do my hair,” she whispers, clearing her throat after to pretend she’s not extremely interested in where this is going. 

“Then do it,” Simon says before biting the waistband of Baz’s shorts and tugging them slowly down her legs. “What’s stopping you?” 

As Simon presses kisses up her left leg, Baz focuses and quickly finishes up doing her hair. It’s not perfect, but she’ll die if Simon makes it all the way up her leg (she’s more than halfway there already). 

Baz drops her hands and grabs Simon by the shoulders of her tank top, yanking her up so Baz can kiss her harshly, pressing her back against the counter. 

Simon smiles into her mouth and wraps her arms around her girlfriend’s waist. Baz licks into her mouth and Simon hums against Baz’s tongue, trying to impossibly closer to her. She’s only stopped when the alarm on Baz’s phone starts to go off. 

“No,” Simon groans against Baz’s mouth as Baz starts to pull away. Simon pulls her back into the kiss, but the alarm is hard to ignore. 

“Snow,” Baz breathes against her mouth. “We have to go.” 

“No,” Simon repeats, but submits and allows Baz to tug back and grab her phone from the counter. She finishes the job of taking her shorts off so she can grab her jeans and slip them on. Simon watches, smiling softly. 

“Are you ready to go?” Baz asks, reaching up to smooth down Simon’s curls a little bit. 

Simon gawks at her. “Yes, but you’re not. Put on a shirt, you deviant.” 

Baz giggles and heads out of the bathroom to grab a loose fitting button-down (that she doesn’t button the top four buttons of just to tease Simon). (The teasing works. Simon can’t stop staring at her bare collarbone). 

“Hey, Simon?” Baz asks, turning around as she slings her bag around one shoulder. “Wanna get lunch between classes?” 

Simon shakes her head. “You’ll be late if you do,” she jokes. 

“Don’t care.” 

Simon practically skips over to Baz and kisses her. “Good.” 

They do get lunch and Baz is late to her class. Simon promises to make it up to her later. 

  
  



End file.
